


A Not-So-Perfect Day

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, caring!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-05
Updated: 2012-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson was having a simply horrid day. Everything is going wrong, and he can't help but have a bit of a breakdown. Thankfully, Sherlock is there to pick him up. fluff and good old m/m</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Not-So-Perfect Day

Watson was having a simply horrid day.

He had come downstairs at 8 a.m. per usual, only to find his fish floating at the top of its bowl. It wasn’t that Watson had a strong attachment to the thing, it was brownish gold and slimy, a gift he had received from a great aunt a few years ago on his birthday. The fish wasn’t of much importance, but it was the beginning of a long, hard day.

After practically falling asleep at the breakfast table, he had knocked over his coffee, spilling it all over his dress shirt, and the angry yell he uttered had most likely woken a few of the neighbors. John had to rummage through his drawers, in search of a new shirt and tie, struggling to hurry so he wouldn’t be late. He had scrambled down the apartment stairs and practically sprinted in the pouring rain to his office a few blocks away.

John had thought that would be the end of it, but it was far form. Minutes after settling into his leather chair with a loud huff, an angry patient stormed through the door, demanding that he be refunded for the medicine he had been given, saying that it was making him lightheaded.

When that fiasco was dealt with he moved on to a few insignificant appointments, mostly people coming in with symptoms of the flu that was going around the city. When he settled down for his lunch break, he realized he had forgotten his lunch at home and didn’t have enough money on him to buy anything at the local shops, so he went hungry.  
At last, it was time to head home. When crossing the street on the way home he was almost hit by a passing motorcar. While Watson was standing by the side of the street, heart pounding, the driver had driven by, given him the finger, and purposely driven through a large puddle, leaving him drenched.

Watson stood, shivering, blocks from home. Many emotions flitted through him, frustration, anger, annoyance, sadness, and most of all a sense of unimportance. He was ready to sit down on the curb and cry, but that wasn’t acceptable behavior, so he quickly walked towards his home, head down. He could feel the exhaustion in him and the bottoms of his feet hurt from walking in wet shoes. When he reached the door to the complex, he stumbled in, narrowly avoiding the post man who was standing inside the doorway.  
“Pardon me,” he mumbled when he almost ran into his elderly neighbor and his stiff legs began the 5 story ascent to his apartment.

Watson felt a little bit worse every step he took and all he wanted to do was to take a steaming shower and sleep for hours and hours. It took him a good 5 minutes to open his door, as his cold fingers fumbled with the small key, struggling to turn it in the lock. When the wooden door gave way, he slumped through the doorway and inside, throwing his briefcase and trench coat in the corner, not caring where they landed. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt as he walked into the small bathroom. He finished pulling off his shirt, feeling the relief of peeling the cold material off of his skin, but shivering in the draftiness of the room. He quickly pulled his trousers off, standing completely naked and freezing cold. As a doctor, Watson knew that the cold itself could not make you sick, but he couldn’t help but feeling as though he would acquire a serious illness if he didn’t warm up.

When the water was hot enough Watson stepped into the shower, letting the scalding water slowly begin the process of heating up his long limbs. Despite the hot shower, Watson still felt terrible. This day had been complete shit and he wanted nothing more than to simply disappear for a long while. He stood in the bathtub, not bothering to wash his hair or grab the bar of soap next to him. As the minutes passed, tears began to run down his face uncontrollably. The sobbing began soon after, and even sooner after that, Watson was barely supporting himself on the rail in the shower gasping for breath and letting the tears run down his face. The emotions did not ease up however, and John soon found himself on the tile floor of the shower, crled into a ball and letting all of the emotions of the last few weeks wash over him.

Watson had no idea how long he was laying there. The only passage of time that he could observe was the water beating down on his back slowly cooling from an almost scalding hot to a barely luke warm. For all this time, Watson continued to cry, and he showed no signs of stopping. He knew it was a bad idea to bottle up his emotions like this.  
For weeks on end, Watson had been hard at work in his office, and in his free time he was with Sherlock, investigating the backload of cases that had developed. He had left little time for relaxation or for his own pesonal studies, and let alone time to spend with friends of any sort.

Waston was relitively unaware of his surroundings, and when his door banged open, he barely noticed.

"God dammit Watson!" yelled Sherlock in a frustrated tone, "I've been trying to get into the house for a good 5 minutes! I have found new evidence in the case surrounding that good-for-no..."

Sherlock trailed off and a look of shock crossed his face when he heard the unmistakable sounds of sobbing coming from the shower. The steps between the bathroom door and the shower were made hastily and he quickly threw open the curtain. As before, Watson was lying on the tiled floor in a fetal position, practically bawling.  
As if unsure what exactly to do, Sherlock turned off the cool water and pushed up his now soaking sleeves to his elbows. He bent over, resting his hand of the back of Watson's neck in an attempt to sooth the man.

"John," said Sherlock calmly, "John, relax, you're perfectly fine. Just tell me what's wrong"

As Sherlock had feared, the man infront of him did not respond in the least, and his sobs seemed only to increase in volume.

"John," Sherlock said yet again, his voice growing with concern.

When there was no response from the shaking man, Sherlock bent down and slowly picked him up from the tub. The awkward angle at which Sherlock had picked up John put too much strain on his back, and he set him down again on the floor. Sherlock grabbed the nearby towel and slowly rubbed John down, doing his best to dry his friend. Yet again he bent down and wrapped the man in his arms, cradling him and making his way towards John's bedroom.

Even when he was in a pair off sleep shorts and wrapped in multiple blankets, Watson's crying had still not subsided. Sherlock sighed, his eyes filled with an imense worry for the man he had been clower to for practically his whole life. Sherlock began to shift the covers, ready to climb in and try his best at soothing his partner when he noticed that the entire front of his button up and his slacks were soaked with water. He quickly stripped and threw on one of Watson's oversized cotton shirts.  
Pulling the blankets over himself and spooning up behind Watson, Sherlock began to wonder what could be the matter.

It couldn't have been something at his work, for all he knew, he was doing well and paitent had yet to up and die on him. Sherlock wasn't able to fathom a reason that his personal life could be the cause of his distress, he partner mostly kept to himself and would rather spend time at home to go out. He really couldn't think of any reason for the distress that his best friend had obviously kept hidden for a while.

As Sherlock held Watson, he could feel his panicked sobbing begin to calm. Soon, Sherlock could feel his breath start to slow as he feel into a restless sleep. Sherlock was happy to see that Watson was sleeping , although his muscles were clenched and he was obviously not in a good state of mind, whatever he was dreaming of. Sighing heavily, Sherlock settled down, cuddling up to Watson, his eyes closing with exhaustion.

 

Sherlock about with a start. He had heard something, although he was not sure what. He grasped for his wristwatch which he had placed on the bedside table and squinted in the moonlight seeping through the blinds to read the watch: 1 am

They had barely been asleep for four hours. Sherlock glanced over at Watson, noticing the man tossing a little bit in bed. That must have been what had awakened him, he speculated. He snuggled back into the warm bed, determined to be a few more hours of sleep, but he had only closed his eyes for what seemed like minutes when Watson grabbed his shoulders, snuggling his face into the crook of his neck, letting out a loud whimper.

Sherlock sat there and held completely still, a little surprised. Watson continued to snuggle up against his chest, wrapping his arms all the way around his chest. Sherlock thought that would be all, but it seemed as though Watson's nightmares were not over and he began to whimper again, squirming against Sherlock's chest. Wanting to calm John down, Sherlock placed his hand on the man's shoulder.

Instead of calming Watson as he had hoped, he woke with a start, looking into Sherlock's eyes with a dazed look.

"Sherlock" he groaned and looked up at him with a rather sad expression

"What is it John? You can tell me anything." Sherlock whispered, brushing John's slightly too long hair out of his eyes.

John grew quiet for a moment, as if contemplating what he would say,"I just, Sherlock, I," he sank back into silence before he could finish his sentence and Sherlock could see tears brimming in his eyes.

"John, please..." Sherlock begged tilting his chin up with his hand, forcing John to look into his eyes. He would do anything to help the man he cared so deeply for, he told himself.

As Watson looked into Sherlock's eyes, he closed the gap between them, pressing his soft lips against Sherlock's chapped ones. John held his lips there for a moment, as if savoring the moment as tears yet again began to run slowly down his cheeks. He began to pull away from Sherlock, ducking his head, but Sherlock grabbed his chin forcing his face up and pressing their lips together once again.

Watson froze for a moment in shock, but soon melted into him wrapping his arms around the Taller man's chest.

Sherlock pulled away for a moment, breathing heavily. "Why me?" he asked simply, "It can't be me."

Watson looked deep into his eyes, "It couldn't have been anyone else." he answered and closed the gap yet again.

Their lips melded together like one and pressed strongly against each other. Sherlock slowly massaged Watson's lips with his tongue, little by little pushing it into the cavern of John's mouth. Their tongues battled for a few minutes, but John soon let Sherlock gain control over him, letting his tongue explore his mouth. Watson moaned. It was a low, needy sound. He began to press himself even closer to the man, if that was possible. He dropped his hands from Sherlock's chest and began to run them down his waist toward the hem of his shirt.

Sherlock suddenly stiffened. "John, we can't," he said, obviously struggling with his self control.

"Please Sherlock," Watson pleaded softly, "I need this."

The strain in Watson's voice was evident and he pushed his lips back onto Sherlock's as his hands continued their descent. John's hands reached the bottom of the nightshirt and he began to pull it up, his neediness beginning to show more and more.When John's fingers reached his chest, he gasped from the sudden cool touch, but relaxed into it. Watson spent his time running his hands up and down the planes of Sherlock's chest, as if memorizing it's curves and defined muscle. When he had finished, John moved his hands up to one of Sherlock's hardening nipples, tweaking it with a finger until he let out a long hiss. John's eyes darkened when he heard the sound and he lowered his mouth, sucking Sherlock's other nipple into it. When Sherlock was obviously becoming oversensitive from his ministrations, he gradually pulled the cotton garment over the head of gasping man underneath him.

"You'll, uhhh, pay for that." Sherlock gasped. He slowly grabbed a hold of John's shoulders, flipping him underneath him and hovering over him. He leaned his head forward, his wavy hair obscuring most of his face, and placed a loving kiss on John's lips, parting them slightly with his tongue.As the two men were kissing, he yanked down John's sleep pants rather forcefully, causing the man to let out a drawn out breath as the fabric skirted over his hardening member. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at this, smirking a little.

"Oh god, Sherlock," John panted, "please!"

"Please do what?" he shot back, eyes gleaming

"Ughhhh" John groaned again, "Anything! Do anything, just soon!"

Hmmmm Sherlock hummed, burying his face in John's stomach, slowly licking his way downwards. John groaned even more loudly than before using his hand to try and press Sherlock's head down faster towards his member. Sherlock refused however, moving slowly and lapping at the skin of John's hip and moving down towards his thigh. His breath passed over John's groin, causing his breath to hitch and for him to squirm with anticipation.

deciding not to torture him any longer, Sherlock moved his lips, pressing them slowly against John's tip, lapping at the precum that was already there. He sucked his lips in,  
engulfing the top of John's dick in his mouth. Everything time that Sherlock went down, he took a little bit more into his throat, until John's cock was fully inside of Sherlock's mouth. John tried to buck up farther into Sherlock's mouth, but he held John down very slowly moving his head up and down on the shaft, using his hands to slowly massage John's balls.

Within a few minutes of this treatment, John began to press against Sherlock's hold with more force, gasping even more loudly, so Sherlock pulled off completely. As John's mouth opened to emit what Sherlock assumed with protest, he stuck two fingers into the heat of his mouth.

"Suck." he commanded. John listened, moving the fingers around the inside of his mouth with his tongue until they were soaked with saliva. Sherlock moved the fingers down towards John's ass, nudging his legs apart with his other hand, spreading them as far as they would go. Little by little Sherlock pushed his two large fingers into John's hole. It was obviously uncomfortable for John, but he pushed down on them, asking for more. When both of his fingers were engulfed by John's tight heat, Sherlock scissored them, making John yelp quite loudly.

"More" groaned John, pushing down on the two fingers.

"Isn't this your first time with a guy?" Sherlock asked

"Yeah. so?" he replied

"So? I need to be gentle. "

"No time," said John, "now please?"

"Just one more finger." he promised

Sherlock slid that last finger into John's hole, moving it around slowly, fucking him on the three fingers.

"I'm ready! Swear!" John gasped

Sherlock slowly lined his painfully hard dick up with John's entrance and slowly began to push it in.  
The two men gasped. John was so tight, the feeling was so great that Sherlock almost came right there. Sherlock lifted himself up and thrusted one hard time to get himself fully settled inside of John. The thrusts started out slowly, but grew with speed as John became more used to the feeling of having Sherlock inside of him. Then without warning, Sherlock thrusted with force and brushed against John's prostate. He almost screamed, arching up into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock got the message, thrusting in that position harder for a few minutes, letting the pressure build up inside of John.

When he least expected it, Sherlock pulled out of John. John groaned and started to protest, but ceased when Sherlock hauled John up on top of him and slowly slid John back down on top of his cock. John got the message and positioned his hands on either side of Sherlock's head, moving his body up and down. Their bodies coursed with pleasure, both of them on the edge of orgasm.

"Come on John," Groaned Sherlock, "Come for me!"

Without farther instruction, John fucked down on Sherlock's staff hard, letting his climax build all the way. He released onto Sherlock's chest with a yell, collapsing onto of the man. Sherlock followed suit, thrusting up into John's loosened hole until he clenched his muscles and let his load go inside of him. The two men lay there on top of each other, panting and exhausted, with Sherlock still inside of John.

John groaned and Sherlock, realizing that John's hole must feel abused, slowly pulled out, trying to to injure him. The couple laid there for a few minutes more, holding each other and letting the waves of pleasure wash over them. When he was fully recovered, John leaned over, pressing his swollen lips onto his lovers.

"I love you Sherlock." John said he repeated it a few more times, eventually trailing off into silence and hanging his head a little, "I wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn't want to ruin our friendship. That's why I had such a huge breakdown earlier. I had an awful day, and that on top of my bottled up love for you just made me lose it. I'm sorry."

"For what?" Sherlock said simply

"For causing you all of this trouble. Things will never be the same between us again." John held his head in shame

"John," Sherlock said, sighing and pulling John's chin up so that he could look him directly in the eyes, "Who says I want things to be the same? I have feelings for you, John, I think I might even love you completely." John let out an audible gasp at this statement,

"And anyways" Sherlock continued with a sly grin, "I feel awful that I caused you all this distress. That wasn't fair to you, so I have to make it up somehow, don't I?"

Watson could only hope that Sherlock's statement had meant what he had hoped.

"Will you be with me John? You're the only one I want to be with." Sherlock asked, heat flushing his cheeks

John pulled Sherlock in for a long, breathless kiss, an obvious answer.

"I love you Sherlock, and now that I know you have feelings for me, maybe I can finally sleep well."

Sherlock smiled and cuddled up against his new lover and boyfriend, he could use the sleep as well.


End file.
